


Purgatory/Crossing Over

by acid_and_oil (orphan_account)



Series: Ectober Week 2017 Prompts [7]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: superphantom, written for Ectober Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 08:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12578260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/acid_and_oil
Summary: It’s post-Phantom Planet, and the last thing Vlad remembers is transforming back into human form in the unforgiving harshness of outer space.What happens to the souls of halfas after they die?Written for Ectober Week 2017. Prompt: Purgatory/Crossing Over. I decided to re-interprete the last bit, and write some SuperPhantom.





	Purgatory/Crossing Over

Vlad could feel the cold hard ground beneath him. The smell of damp soil tickled his nostrils. His head hurt. He wanted to get up, but the cool earth felt too good. His body felt like it was on fire. 

What happened? Where was he?

Vlad opened his eyes, and finally gathered the resolve to stand. He looked around. He was in the woods, that much was clear well before he opened his eyes. The sky had a strange quality to it. It was dark, but decidedly not night. It was closer to the darkness that came after a mid-day storm, but ground was dry. The air, however, was thick with an unnatural mist. There was a feeling, an atmospheric tension. This place, wherever it was, had a rawness to it. 

Primal. 

Vlad’s mind immediately drifted to the incident in Colorado. He was reminded of the time Daniel had set his experiments after him. An aura of pursuit was in the air.

Vlad sensed something behind him, and turned his head at the snapping of a twig. A man was behind him, a crouching and brandishing a rock.

Vlad’s instincts kicked in. He floated up, just as the figure lunged. The man hit his head against a tree, and slumped over, likely conscious. Vlad descended, remaining wary. 

Who was his attacker? The man was in his late-twenties or early thirties. Vlad scoffed. He had never seen him in his life. When his glanced fell to the rock in the attacker’s limp hand, he gasped. Claws. Long, yellowed claws. On a hunch, Vlad prodded with his finger, pulling back the senseless man’s lips. Fangs. This man had claws and fangs. 

An instinct took over. Not fully in control, Vlad stepped on the werewolf’s body, and let out a cry of victory. A challenge. 

Whose next?


End file.
